Lord Shadow - Chapter 1582: Cause and Effect

The one that he followed at that time is the Demonic Prince of the 30th Level of Cold Hell

There is many demonic beings that enter that ancient ruin to fight for treasures and opportunity.

And when so many demonic beings gathered in one place, with only a few resources, it is inevitable that a clash would happen and just like he had expected, the battle started and Azief hide himself.

In the heart of the ancient ruin, an apocalyptic battle of epic proportions erupted.

It was as if the very foundations of the world quaked in response to the violent clashes and unrestrained use of otherworldly power.

Demonic beings from across the Seresian realm had converged in this treacherous labyrinth of forgotten secrets, driven by their insatiable greed and hunger for power.

The ancient halls of this ancient ruins echoed with blood-curdling roars, and the air itself seemed to vibrate with the malevolence that hung thick like a shroud.

Arcane energies clashed and coalesced, giving rise to colossal explosions of supernatural might. n)/In

The ground trembled beneath the ferocity of the battle, and the very stones seemed to weep in anguish.

Amidst this chaotic maelstrom of power, Azief watched with awe as a demonic king, an immense titan of three hundred feet, made its awe-inspiring entrance.

The sheer scale of its malevolent presence sent shockwaves throughout the battlefield.

With every step it took, the ground quaked, and lesser demons were cast aside like leaves in a storm.

This demonic titan was a force of nature, a living cataclysm.

Its colossal form was wreathed in swirling shadows and ominous energies, and its eyes burned with a baleful light.

With a swing of its gargantuan weapon, entire sections of the ruin crumbled to dust, sending plumes of debris and stone into the air.

The battle raged on, earth-shattering clashes reverberating through the ancient ruin.

Supernatural flames seared the very air, and titanic fists met with explosive impacts that could shatter mountains.

Spells of darkness and despair rent the sky, creating rifts in reality itself.

Azief, though hidden from view, felt the intensity of the battle in his bones.

It was a relentless, heaven-shaking conflict, where he first saw the threat of such existence. It was at that moment, that Azief step on the wider world and yearn even more for power and strength.

The demonic beings fought with a primal ferocity, their fierceness and brutality could not help but leave some trace of it in Azief heart.

And he saw how the Demon King able to fight so many people.

The power of the ten rings adorning the Demon King’s fingers was a sight to behold. As the battle raged on, he wielded these formidable artifacts with masterful use, and the unleashed might was nothing short of cataclysmic.

Each ring contained boundless energy, and in the hands of a being of such staggering power, the rings true potential was unleashed.

With a single gesture, the Demon King cleaved the land in half using only his hand, rending it asunder and giving birth to a new continent in the Seresian world.

The very sky above was torn open, revealing the glittering expanse of stars that stretched out into the endless void of the universe.

Clouds dispersed into the finest particles, invisible to the naked eye, as the very fabric of reality quivered in response to the unleashed power.

The cataclysmic effects of this battle reverberated through the Seresian realm, affecting heaven and earth alike.

It was as if the very foundations of creation were being tested, and the world itself bore witness to the devastating forces at play.

The clash of the Demon King and the Demon Princes created shockwaves that rippled through dimensions, leaving scars upon the very fabric of the universe.

Amidst this awe-inspiring spectacle, Azief recognized the potency of the ten rings. They were not mere trinkets; they were the keys to unlocking god-like power.

That is when he has desire to obtain that ring

Because of that cleaving attack by the Demon King, the moon, once a serene and luminous presence in the Seresian sky, was sundered in two.

A colossal force had rent it asunder, casting half of it into oblivion while the other half hung in eerie isolation.

The night was forever changed, as the moon’s gentle light was replaced by the stark division between light and shadow.

A magnificent Heaven Palace was brought crashing down from the heavens.

It plummeted like a celestial hammer, obliterating everything in its path.

The impact was cataclysmic, annihilating a mortal empire and all its inhabitants in one fell swoop.

It was a devastating sight

In the depths of the Cold Hell, a realm of eternal ice and torment, fiery strikes rained down with unrelenting fury.

The ice that had imprisoned countless souls for eons began to melt and crack, releasing its captives from their frozen torment.

The refined souls within that frigid domain were not spared, as they were engulfed in the searing heat, their agonized cries echoing through the hellish landscape.

The battlefield itself bore witness to the aftermath of this earth-shattering clash.

The ground was scarred and torn, as if the very world had wept at the devastation.

The heavens themselves seemed wounded, as dark clouds gathered ominously, and the very air crackled with residual energy.

It was a battle of unprecedented scale, where the clash of titanic forces reshaped the Seresian world itself.

Amidst the cataclysmic battle of the titans, Azief fought not as a conqueror, but as a survivor.

He was but a tiny speck in the midst of unimaginable forces clashing, a sailor on a tempestuous sea, desperately clinging to life’s fragile thread.

Each moment was a dance with death, as close calls and near misses became his constant companions.

He could feel the shockwaves of power reverberate through his very being, threatening to tear him apart or cast him adrift to unknown lands.

In the chaotic maelstrom of energy and destruction, he struggled to find his footing, both physically and figuratively.

There were moments when he was blown away by the aftershocks of titanic clashes, his body tumbling through the air like a discarded doll.

In those disorienting moments, he glimpsed foreign lands and unfamiliar landscapes before gravity yanked him back into the heart of the battle.

Survival was a relentless pursuit, and Azief fought not only against the formidable adversaries on the battlefield but also against the very world itself.

The energy fluctuations that surged through the environment threatened to consume him, to unravel his existence.

Yet, with a determination born of desperation and a relentless will to overcome and to live, Azief persevered.

He rushed back into the heart of the battle, even as chaos raged around him.

Near the end, the survivor is The Demonic Prince of the 78th Level of Fiery hell. And he manages to kill the Demonic King only after he banded together with the other Demonic Princes and Counts.

About a trillion of Demonic Prince and Hell Judges dies under the Demonic King hands that day.

At the time, the Demonic Prince of the 78th level of Fiery Hell was already weakened so much that his aura was almost like normal mortal.

Azief couldn’t forget the triumphant scene as the Demonic Prince, his body battered and torn, grasped the rings.

With a triumphant, blood-streaked grin, the prince severed the colossal finger that bore the rings, an appendage as vast as a mountain.

The ten rings, each a harbinger of cataclysmic power, seemed to respond to the touch of their new master.

They shimmered with an eerie light, then adjusted their size to fit the finger of the Demonic Prince.

They no longer retained their monstrous dimensions but instead conformed to the proportions of their new wielder.

The prince’s left arm was gone, his body grievously wounded, and his garments stained with blood.

But none of that mattered in the face of the overwhelming victory he had achieved. He clutched the rings with a mix of disbelief and euphoria

Azief, having concealed his presence and healed himself during the chaotic battle, emerged from his hiding spot.

At that time he was brimming with energy, his injuries having mended, and he appeared as though he had not been part of the fierce battle that had just transpired.

Without hesitation, he lunged at the Demonic Prince, who had just claimed the ten rings. Although it may appear straightforward, the ease with which Azief dispatched the prince

was a direct result of the prince’s own depleted condition.

The relentless combat had drained the Demonic Prince of his vital energies, leaving him teetering on the brink of death.

Azief strike was swift and deadly.

With a single fluid motion, he decapitated the Demonic Prince, ending the brief but cataclysmic reign of the ring-bearer.

In the ruthless theatre of life and death, there is no room for the hypothetical “if.”

Azief had comprehended this harsh truth with every heartbeat, every breath, and every calculated strike during that fateful battle in the Seresian world.

Had time and circumstances been different, the Demonic Prince might have had a chance to recover, to mend his broken form, and with the Ten Rings in his possession, ascend to the exalted rank of Demonic King in the Seresian world.

But in the crucible of combat, there were no second chances, no ifs or maybes.

There was only the cold, unyielding reality of life and death, where victory belonged to the swift, the decisive, and the relentless.

He was weak and Azief took advantage of that and grabs the Ten rings

Since then, the Ten Eternal Rings belongs to him

Azief sighed. He could not help but reminisce about that past.

“At that time, cause and effect is formed. I was too na?ve at that time”